


been here before

by franztheunicorn



Series: spones ficlets and late night hours [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Broken Bones, Crying, Don't Read This, He's Still a Pain in the Ass Though, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Sad, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love, Why Did I Write This?, Written in Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:57:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8199029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franztheunicorn/pseuds/franztheunicorn
Summary: I'm so sorry.Some day I will finish the other story I write. But probably not soon. I just felt like writing this. Even though it's fucking mess and lacking anything that could be called a plot. And everything happens too quickly. Argh.English is not my native language, and this work has never ever seen a beta, so don't hate me for my mistakes.





	

Leonard McCoy is a doctor. He's not stupid, not in the medical term of being an idiot with the lowest IQ in the history of humanity. He's not a genius either, but intelligent enough to become one of Starfleet's best physicians - and definitely the most patient one, considering how infuriating the crew of the Enterprise can be if they want to. Especially one particular Captain.

And yet at some point, somewhere between Jim getting stuck on a fucking ice cube floating in space and experimental injecting a tribble with Khan's super-blood, he finds himself feeling like a complete moron. Because, well, damn, he may have just a little, tiny, minute (huge as a fucking planet, Leonard, who are you even trying to fool right now, come on, man, nobody believes you anyway) crush on Spock. _Spock._  Who's in a happy relationship with Uhura at the moment and doesn't hesitate to show it to everyone on the ship. Which is quite strange for a Vulcan with all their little privacy mania.

McCoy would laugh his ass off right now if the sight of Uhura and Spock kissing wasn't fucking him up so hard. The best he can do is leave, grumbling something about stupid lovebirds and their lack of good manners.

The truth is, he's jealous. It takes him a while to discover and even a longer one to understand, but yeah, he is jealous. And lonely. Desperate need for someone's warmth, it turns out, isn't really something he could enjoy. His bed is too big and too cold, his whole body feels icy and stiff with its suddenly oversensitive skin. He's longing, but can't decide for what. Touch, probably.

He's too proud to go to Jim, too proud to tell him anything, to open up, even though he knows he should. Maybe it would make him feel better. Maybe not. Probably not. So he doesn't say anything. He has been here before, right after his wife left him, and he knows his friend. He's not really in the mood for getting good advices and compassionate looks, uplifting pats on the shoulder.

He also knows himself. Well enough to be sure that telling anyone wouldn't be a good idea. He doesn't want their pity. He doesn't want to turn out so weak he can't even deal with his own problems.

He doesn't want to be the one who fell for Spock either, but apparently he doesn't have choice anymore (he never had, but wouldn't ever admit it), so it's better to keep it to himself. Some things shouldn't be spoken aloud, right?

He was never good at dealing with his own feelings; feeling too much and too deep, he learned to hide his true emotions under the mask of a grumpy doctor. No one could hurt him that way. But this- this is different. He doesn't know what to do. So he does the only thing he can.

He escapes and buries himself in his duties.

He's working hard, harder than before, harder than he should, finding problems everywhere and being even bigger pain in the ass when it comes to monthly physics or Jim's diet. He's running additional tests to literally everything and everyone, stays in his office for hours after the end of his shift, segregates his documents or checks the Sickbay for the fifth time. The crew gets pretty annoyed with him, especially when he starts overlaping those of them who refuse to let him check their vital functions once a week. Anything goes, as long as it keeps him busy and away from the gloomy silence of his quarters.

He's not getting enough sleep, not even close to the satisfactory amount. But it's alright, yes, everything is absolutely perfect and nothing wrong is going on, why would anyone even ask him such a question.

He tries to avoid the bridge as much as he can, because on the bridge there is not enough space and not enough air, and too much people, and they all know him too damn well to miss the dark circles under his tired eyes. And there is Spock, and McCoy is pretty damn sure he will suffocate or choke on his own tongue or do something really really _really_ stupid if he happen to find himself in the same room as the fucking hobgoblin. But he can't avoid the Sickbay, can't avoid his co-workers. And even if no one on the ship notices, well, Chapel does. She always does.

Jim tries to talk to him, calls him "Bones", but Bones still isn't in the mood and he doubt he will ever be. They end up shouting at each other and Cupcake has to intervene if he doesn't want to let them draw first blood. Leonard growls and scowls and leaves before he could do or say something he will definitely regret. He already does, but is too angry and too broken to afford being the one apologizing.

He storms through the door, rushing blindly towards his quarters, when he runs into someone so suddenly he staggers back. A strong yet gentle grip on his arms prevents him from falling unceremoniously on his ass and those hands are so hot the warmth sinks through the fabric of McCoy's sleeves, radiating all over his body, making his guts twist almost painfully. There is something fluttering in his chest and his head feels a little dizzy, his legs are oddly weak and he's fucking sure he will not be able to stand or walk or _think_ on his own if those long, elegant fingers disappear now. But they don't. Spock is holding him firmly in place, this sudden closeness making it hard, oh so incredibly hard for Leonard to gather his thoughts, Vulcan's warmth and his own rage tying his tongue. He wants to step back and in the same time he wants to get closer, he wants to touch those lips, those pointy ears, that perfect black hair, he wants to wrap himself around this slender body and sink in those dark eyes.

"Doctor" the spell is gone, broken by this deep, calm voice, bringing McCoy back to the ground. "Are you well? Has anything happened?"

Bones feels cold air on his cheeks, tears wetting his face. New anger explodes somewhere in his chest when he pulls himself away from the grip, gazing at Spock, and there is so much fury and despair in his look and his voice, but he can't even bring himself to care.

"None of your goddamn business, you pointy-eared bastard" he growls, passing Spock by. "Fuck off, I want to be alone."

All he wants right now is a hug, a kiss on a forehead, some warmth, some comfort. Someone who would bring him close, tell him that everything will be alright, that he's here, that he's never leaving. Someone who would tug him into blankets and never leave his side. But that he doesn't say.

And in the silence of his quarters he pulls out his precious bourbon. He drinks from the bottle, takes a gulp, starts crying, then takes another one. His weeping will probably be soon noticed by someone, but that's one more thing he doesn't give two shits about right now. Because he doesn't have anything to loose. Because he hit the new low. Because he never wanted to be alone. Because he has been here before.

Maybe he has never really been anywhere else.

**Author's Note:**

> Give me a piece of your mind about this shit.  
> Also if it gets some love I will think about writing a little prequel. Or an alternate ending maybe. Who knows.  
> 


End file.
